Falling Inside the Black - Stendy
by Mist Ketchum
Summary: After Wendy broke up with Stan, he became so depressed that he even became goth. What would happen if Wendy suddenly felt compelled to visit Stan while he was going through this phase? Stendy song-fic.


_****__**This story has been modified since I got a PM warning me that if I don't take the lyrics of the song out of my fic, my account could be closed. In the future when doing song fics I will just say "based on this song". Hope it is still good.**_

_****__**Here is my first South Park Stendy (StanxWendy) fic. I technically shipped these two BEFORE I shipped Pokeshipping. I love them, they're just so adorable! :D The POV changes between the two and the change is indicated by a large paragraph break. This is technically a song-fic for the song: "Falling Inside the Black" by Skillet and takes place during the episode "Raisins". I just wanted to provide somewhat of a internal struggle for Wendy since they DO get back together later so there had to still be something there. Enjoy and please give me feedback on how I did as I'm not used to doing SP fanfics yet.**_

* * *

_**Falling Inside the Black  
**_

I stumbled into my room and closed the door behind me. I just stood there for a moment, my mind fogged and eyes unfocused. The colors of my room were way too bright for my mood; it was too light, too happy; it reminded me of HER.

The "her" I'm referring to is Wendy Testaburger (I don't like to think of her as my ex girlfriend but the fact is that she isn't my girlfriend anymore). She left me for Token, the black kid who's apparently everything that I'm not. She was probably just tired of me throwing up on her every time we were together. I can't help it. Being with her just makes me so nervous that it happens.

I sighed and plopped down on my bed, stepping over the tissue littered carpet. I lay my head on the pillow, feeling the tear drenched cloth seeping through my hat. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, I pulled out my iPod, hoping that music would get my mind off of her.

The goth kids had altered my music, replacing all of my old, happier tunes with everything dark, death and metal. I was fine with this since I probably wouldn't be able to listen to anything happy.

I shook the music player in a limp grasp to activate the shuffle function. As I stuck my headphones in, the beginning guitar of a song greeted me. I glanced at the screen to see the title read: Falling Inside the Black by Skillet. I closed my eyes and bobbed my head to the beating heart of the music.

My ears pricked to the lyrics of the song. It was as if they were speaking to me, relating to my situation. A familiar pang struck my heart as I referred to Wendy in these words. She was so kind; very sweet and smart and beautiful. I remembered how happy she made me feel every time she was around; nervous, yes, but happy nonetheless. But happiness was like a shallow memory for me now.

"Please, don't leave me alone Wendy," I said in a cracking whisper.

As I listened to the chorus, my mind drifted to another place; a place with darkness all around. I stood in the center of this darkness, hearing the voices of my memories; my memories with Wendy. Her beautiful silken black hair topped with a pink beret, metallic gray eyes that seemed to stare right into my soul. Suddenly a hole opened up below my feet and I fell deeper and deeper. I couldn't see anything; all I knew was that I was falling and that the voices were getting farther away.

I snapped out of my vision when I opened my eyes and braced myself as another wave of depression splashed me. I wished for her to come back to me. I wished I had one more chance to right whatever it was I did wrong. I would give anything to be able to hold her close again and never let go.

This time I decided to sing along to the chorus, my voice steadily getting louder and laced with more emotion.

* * *

I strolled down the sidewalk, heading toward Token's house. As I passed in front of Stan's house, I tried not to stare or to even acknowledge that it was there. Why did his house have to be on the way to Token's?

Before I could leave the house behind, I suddenly heard singing. The voice was melodic yet carried a sorrowful tone to my ears with such emotion that it just about broke my heart. The voice sounded so familiar too. Turning toward the source of the sound, I realized that it came from Stan's house. That's when it hit me.

"Stan?" I whispered and stared at the house. It felt like a looming force before me. I took an involuntary step forward, and then another. It was as if his voice was pulling me toward him, like a gravitational pull or a siren's song.

Part of my mind screamed at me to turn around; keep walking to Token's house and never look back. After all, I hadn't spoken to Stan after the breakup; in fact, I didn't even have the heart to do it. I made Bebe do it for me! But another part of me had a dreaded feeling that something was wrong. Giving in to the latter feeling, I pelted the rest of the distance and rapped on the door, anxiously awaiting a response.

The door opened a few moments later and Stan's mom stood at the door. "Oh hello Wendy," she greeted with a smile, surprising me.

I didn't expect such a warm welcome after what happened between me and Stan. Maybe he didn't tell her. "Hello Mrs. Marsh." I ducked my head politely. "Is Stan home?" I stumbled over my words as nerves tightened my throat.

Her expression changed into one of worry. "Yes, he's up in his room. Please, come in." She stepped aside and I walked in, sealing away my last chance to turn back. "Maybe you can help him. He's changed in the last few days and I've never seen him like this," she voiced her concerns.

My heart sank. The last few days, she said. A few days ago was when I broke up with him. Help him? Help him what? I shot her another glance before hesitantly making my way to his room, my heart pounding with each step. When I reached his room I tapped on the door and waited for a response. When all I heard was singing, I slowly opened the door and peaked in.

I drew a sharp breath in when I saw him. What the hell did he do to himself? He was laying on the bed, his eyes closed as he sang along to his iPod in that sorrowful melody, but that wasn't what shocked me. He was wearing all black, replacing his usual brown jacket, red gloves and blue jeans; he even replaced his trademark blue and red Pom puff hat with a black counterpart. His skin was pale and his eyes were red and puffy, outlined by black eyeliner. He had even gotten his ear pierced!

My shock slowly faded, followed by disparity. Did I do this to him? Did our break up really hurt him this much? I silently stepped into the room and closed the door behind me. He looked so fragile, like the smallest touch would shatter him. Part of me wanted to run to him and embrace him, giving him all of the comfort that I could to mend him. But I knew that would be stupid. I'm with Token now.

It wasn't that I stopped caring about Stan. There are days that I regret my decision but other days I feel the relief. No more trips home to give my clothes and hair a thorough scrubbing from vomit; no more of that disgustingness. No more having to feel neglected from the lack of time he spent with me. But then I would remember all of the good times and how sweet he was. Part of me knew I needed a change; part of me still loved him.

I stood against the door and waited as he continued singing the rest of the song. It could take a million more songs before he opened his eyes and noticed me. But I was willing to wait for him.

* * *

As I finished singing the song, which mostly consisted of the chorus played out in various ways, I felt my eyes start to water again. Listening to music hadn't made me feel better; it made me think about her even more. I paused my iPod and ripped the headphones out of my ears, clenching my eyes shut in an attempt to close the floodgate before any tears could escape. But I couldn't stop them as they flowed down my cheeks, most likely leaving a black trail of smeared goth eyeliner. I made a mental note to fix that later.

A soft shuffling sound made my eyes snap open. I looked toward the source of the sound but my vision was blurry. Through this watery lens I saw a pool of purple and black with a sad face staring back at me. I blinked a couple of times to clear my eyes and when I could see clearly again, to my surprise Wendy was standing in my room.

I blinked a couple more times to see if she would vanish again and was confused when she didn't. "Damn hallucinations," I muttered. But man, this hallucination was more realistic than any of the others.

"This isn't a hallucination Stan," she said; her voice sounded so real. "I'm really here."

My mouth gaped open like a fish's as I stared into her luminous silver eyes. I had to admit that she never looked so sad in any of my hallucinations. She was always happy; the way I remember her being. "Wendy?" I stuttered softly, trying not to get my hopes up too high as I still feared that she would vanish.

She gained the slightest smile upon her lips and crossed the room to my bed. I sat up swiftly as she reached me, still not totally believing that she was here. She drew a hesitant and shaky hand toward me, about to lay it on my cheek. But she froze, drew back slightly, and settled for resting it on my shoulder. My body jerked at her touch as if a spark had shot from her fingertips. My eyes widened and I stared at her, realizing that no hallucination could feel this real.

"Yeah, it's me," she said softly.

I jumped and swiftly wiped my eyes, realizing that she had caught me crying. Damn it, damn it, damn it! She wasn't supposed to see me like this! Soon after wiping my eyes it occurred to me that I probably just made myself look worse by smearing the liner. Cursing, I stopped trying to make myself look better and instead looked at her, feeling that familiar anxiousness overtake me.

"What are you doing here Wendy?"

* * *

It was so heartbreaking to see him like this. He even started crying after the song! And he's having hallucinations of me? His voice is also so lifeless and dull. What happened to that cheerfulness that I knew and loved? How is it possible for someone to get THIS depressed?

I was taken aback by his question as I didn't even know why I was here. Telling him that I was just passing through the neighborhood and decided to drop in seemed like an odd remark, given the circumstances. "I," I started, "I really don't know. I heard you singing and felt that I needed to come," I said truthfully.

He looked away, frowning in embarrassment. Is it wrong to think that his eyes look even more gorgeous now? I guess it's all the black contrasting the blue but he looks so- okay, yes, it is wrong to think that. I'm with Token. TOKEN!

He didn't answer so I decided to press on. "Stan," I realized my hand was still on his shoulder and withdrew it sheepishly, "why did you do this to yourself?" I hoped that the question wasn't too harsh and I probably already knew the answer but I still held on to the glimmer of hope that I was wrong. Maybe he was depressed about something else; something that I could actually help him with. "This isn't like you."

He hesitated, his eyes glued to the floor. He finally looked at me with unreadable ocean blue orbs that shot through me like a laser beam. "Maybe you just don't know me as well as you thought," he said.

Okay, that remark hurt a little. I shook it off and sighed. He had avoided my question. "Why, Stan?" I asked. "Why did you do this to yourself?"

He dropped my gaze again. "You should know," he muttered, his voice deepening.

That was all the indication I needed. I frowned, not sure how to respond. Stan took the conversation torch from me.

"You still with Token?" He asked. Asked by anyone else this would be a casual question. But I knew how much more it meant to him, especially in his current condition.

I couldn't meet his eyes as I answered. "Yeah, I am."

He looked at me slowly, his dull expression gaining such sadness that I felt like I had kicked a puppy. "I hope," he swallowed, "I hope you are happy with Token." I knew how hard that must have been for him to say.

I didn't know if I was happy with him yet or not. The relationship was still so new. While I did have feelings for Token, I was still pretty hung up on Stan. "Thanks," I whispered, not knowing what else to say. An awkward and heavy silence fell between us and neither could meet the other's eye.

"So Wends, I never got to know," he said with a slow and deliberate measure to every word. I couldn't help the warm blush that painted my cheeks at him using his nickname for me. "Why exactly did you break up with me?"

I should have seen this question coming, yet I was still not prepared to give a good answer. "I still care about you Stan; I still want to be your friend. But I didn't think it was really working out for us to be boyfriend and girlfriend."

"It's because of my problem isn't it?"

"No. I mean, partly yeah."

"I can't help it!" He grabbed my hands, making my face burn hotter and my stomach flutter. "Believe me, if I could stop myself from barfing every time I'm with you, I would. I hate it just as much as you do. I wish I could just be like every other guy and not have such a weak stomach. It gives the guys way too much ammo to rip on me and it ruined my chances with you." I could sense desperation and self loathing behind his words.

Not pulling my hands away, I gave him a smile, relishing in the feeling of his warm, yet sweaty hands over mine. "I'm glad you're not like all the other guys. Why do you think I liked you? You're sweet and adorable, unlike all the other dickheads in our class."

His eyebrows rose. "Dude, did you just call Token a dickhead?"

I cocked my head and ran my last sentence over in my mind. Did I? Before I could answer, he added, "if you still care about me then why did you walk away? Why didn't you respond when I had Jimmy go talk to you?"

Anger pulsed through my veins and replaced my blush with an angry flare. "Why the hell do you think? Would YOU still be happy with a person who calls you something like that?" I let go of his hands and glared up at him.

He put both hands up in defense and looked terrified as I spat at him. "Geez dude! What's wrong with me telling you that you're a 'continuing source of inspiration to me'?"

My rage stopped in its tracks. "What?" He had sent Jimmy to come talk to me after the break up. Jimmy was a handicapped kid who had a speech impediment where he stuttered. "THAT'S what you were trying to have Jimmy tell me?" The day when Stan sent him over to tell me something, I could have sworn he was being an asshole. He should have known not to have Jimmy say such a long sentence.

"Yeah! What did you think Jimmy was saying?"

I giggled when realizing the misunderstanding, which transformed into a full laugh. "The C word," I choked out between laughs.

His eyebrows knit together into an incredulous expression. "WHAT? Why the fuck would I call you that?"

I leaped up onto the bed to sit beside him, beaming widely as I tried to stop laughing. "Because you were mad at me for breaking up with you?"

"No way, I was trying to get you back. It would be stupid to say that!"

"Yeah, it would," I sighed. Our eyes locked and I had to stop myself from swaying. What is it about this kid that still makes me swoon? What he had tried to have Jimmy say for him was so unbelievably sweet that I wanted so badly to just attack him with hugs and kisses. But that would be stupid for two reasons; one, I just took a shower this morning and would have to run home and take another and two, I'm with Token. I can't fall in love with Stan all over again; I have to stick with my decision. But if its the right thing to do then why does it hurt so much?

* * *

Why do I keep telling her everything on my mind? Most of this stuff I would never say out loud in a million years. I just feel like telling her everything now. Like this is my one chance to do it. I felt better knowing that the whole Jimmy situation was settled. When she locked me into a staring contest, my stomach began doing flips and jumping jacks and gurgling unpleasantly. Despite my stomach feeling queasy again, a light tingly feeling spread through the rest of my body.

"I'm glad you came to visit. I feel happier than I have been for a while." Damn it! There's another thing I didn't mean to say out loud. Before I knew what was happening, I started leaning toward her slowly. The closer I got, the more my stomach gurgled with intestinal distress.

My conscious began screaming at me, no Stan! You're only going to get hurt again! She left you for Token. She doesn't feel the same way anymore. Is she leaning toward me or is it just my imagination?

"Why can't we go back to the way things were?" I whispered, hating how hoarse my voice sounded. I stopped moving toward her to purse my lips and swallow rapidly in an attempt to keep the rising nausea down.

She broke eye contact with a frown, her fingers fiddling with my bed sheets. "We can't Stan," she said.

"Because you're with Token now," I finished for her with a tang of bitterness.

"Yeah," she said but seemed unfazed by my bitter tone. She did look more sad though.

"I'm going to ask you something and I want you to be completely honest with me. None of this 'trying to spare my feelings' bullshit, okay?" She looked up at me slowly with that depressing look. "Do you," I swallowed again as the choking nausea rose to my throat, "do you still love me?"

"That doesn't matter now since-"

"Just answer the question Wendy, please."

She hesitated for a long while before finally dipping her head in a small nod. "I do," she whispered. I hardly heard her.

"Then take me back," I said. I probably sounded way too desperate but at the moment I didn't care. All that I cared about was getting her back. My eyes lowered to her lips. The urge to kiss them was so strong but I knew my stomach was too weak to handle it. Plus if Wendy insisted on just being friends then I might lose her for good by acting on impulse.

"I really wish I could Stan. I hate seeing you like this and I'm so sorry that I hurt you." Her eyes held a look of sympathetic hopelessness. "Is there anything else that I can do to help you?"

"You know how you can help me!" I fought to keep my voice steady but on the inside I was screaming in frustration. "It's not like Token is FORCING you into a relationship." Wait, what if he is? If that girlfriend-stealer is being abusive or threatening her then I swear to God, I will kick his ass! "Is he?"

"No, he's not!"

Why does she have to torture me like this? She says that she still loves me and yet she can't leave Token for some reason. My conscious and heart finally made a reluctant agreement with one another. I had to tell myself and everyone else that I hated her. If I didn't then I would be wounded and depressed forever; though I knew that it would always hurt.

"If that's how you feel then maybe you should leave." I scooted away from her, lengthening the once short distance between us. I hated saying this but it was the only way.

"What?" She had a look of hurt desperation; she knew what was coming. Maybe she would know how I felt now. But this thought still didn't help at all.

"You should leave and go see Token."

"But Stan-"

"If you really want to help me then go be happy with Token and leave me the hell alone!" I snarled, fueled by pain and rage. Well, the words are out. I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay her friend without loving her and having to see her with Token.

She stared at me for a long while with a deep sadness that was unnatural for someone as cheerful as her. Finally, she sighed and slid off of my bed. She walked across the room with her head down and opened the door to leave. "I'm so sorry," she said and looked at me over her shoulder.

I didn't respond and refused to look at her. The chorus of the song I had just heard played over and over in my mind as she walked out of the door and out of my life.


End file.
